The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border eBook

“Yes, sir,” said Jack. “Father
and I have suspected what the game was, and that was
why I told the cowboy to say nothing.”

“Good,” said Mr. Temple, approvingly.
“Now, Jack, that the mystery of the airplane’s
disappearance has been cleared up, we are ready to
leave at once. We can get out of New York City
on the 6 o’clock train tonight. Look for
us Friday. I’ll say good-bye until then,
and let the boys speak to you, for I know they are
dying to do so.”

While the boys and Jack conversed, Mr. Temple sought
out his wife. After explaining the necessity
for his abrupt departure with the boys for New Mexico,
he said:

“I should worry if I thought you would be subjected
to annoyances while we were away. But I believe
there will be no more trouble here. And with
the servants in the house and the guests you have invited,
you may feel perfectly safe.”

“Oh, Dad, I think you’re awfully mean
not to take me along,” pouted Della, who was
present.

“Why, Lassie,” said her father, “with
a bunch of harum scarum boys to look after, my hands
will be full enough.”

“Yes, you think they’re just boys,”
flashed his young daughter. “But you wait
and see. They’ll be taking care of you.
Just you wait and see. Frank is awfully clever.”

“Frank?” said Mr. Temple teasingly, with
a meaning look.

Della flushed, and made an excuse to leave the room
a moment later.

“I wish, George, that you wouldn’t tease
her about Frank,” said Mrs. Temple. “She’s
such a child.”

CHAPTER VIII

HELD FOR RANSOM

“Great Scott, Jack, how different you look.
What a peach of a get-up.”

The Temples, father and son, and Frank Merrick stood
on the gravel-bed outside the little wooden box doing
duty as station at Ransome, New Mexico. The transcontinental
flier which had dropped them, was dwindling in the
distance. Jack Hampton, whom the chums and Mr.
Temple had crossed the country from New York to join,
was in the center of the group. Greetings had
been exchanged, they had all slapped each other on
the back indiscriminately and enthusiastically, and
now Bob Temple stood off at arm’s length to
admire his chum.

“Yes, sir. Some get-up,” he added.

“Righto,” agreed Frank, also gazing at
the handsome Jack admiringly. “Where do
you get ’em? Lead me to the store right
away.”

Jack, who was 19 and the oldest of the three chums,
was almost as tall as the six-foot Bob, but of more
slender build than that gridiron warrior. He
had the build of a thoroughbred, long legs, flat hips,
trim waist, deep chest and broad shoulders and a flat
back. Both at dashes and distance running Jack
easily was supreme at Harrington Hall Military Academy,
which all three boys attended. Like Bob he was
fair and had curling chestnut hair. His eyes
were blue and lively, his features not too regular.
Altogether, he was a striking figure.